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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23987674">An Unremarkable Tuesday</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/incorrectbatfam/pseuds/incorrectbatfam'>incorrectbatfam</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person, Slice of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:21:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,221</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23987674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/incorrectbatfam/pseuds/incorrectbatfam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What would being a high schooler in Gotham be like?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Minor or Background Relationship(s), Original Character &amp; Original Character, Original Character/Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Unremarkable Tuesday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is crossposted from Tumblr where I was originally sent the ask: https://incorrectbatfam.tumblr.com/post/189518165557/what-would-being-a-high-schooler-in-gotham-be</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You wake up to the sound of a limo driving past your house, an old man taking a small Middle Eastern boy to school. You brush your teeth and put on your vintage Gotham Knights jersey in hopes of impressing your crush in math class. You make yourself a bowl of cereal as your parents and siblings rush to get ready for work and school. You refill the dog’s bowl and feed the fish before you leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you wait at the bus stop, you casually kick aside a batarang that someone left behind. And you curse the bus for being late again because the city can fund a bat signal but can’t fix a couple damn potholes. When the bus does arrive, the seats are almost all filled, so you’re stuck with the cracked leather one that has old gum stuck to it. Again. You put on your headphones and listen to your favorite song as the Wayne Enterprises building passes by in a haze, like most things on an unremarkable Tuesday. You daydream of what it’d be like to run somewhere else—Metropolis, Central City, perhaps Khandaq. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bus jerks to a stop in front of your school and kids shove and shuffle to get out. The bus driver grumbles under his breath about hating his job. You don’t blame him. Some kid accidentally steps on the back of your heel as you enter Gotham High’s front doors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You put your things in your locker. Your best friend frantically asks you for homework answers. They couldn’t concentrate last night because Nightwing and Killer Croc were duking it out on their block. You hand your friend the worksheet; they’d do the same for you too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Just give it back before fourth period,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> you say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes lock with your crush’s in class as neither of you two listened to your science teacher’s monotonous lecture on the molecular composition of fear gas. You wish your crush was your lab partner, but instead you’re stuck with this girl named Stephanie, who ditches you halfway through the lab to call her boyfriend in the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You take a nap in second period, because who even cares about classic literature anyway? Plus, you missed out on valuable sleep last night when your kid sister came to your room after having another Joker nightmare. The teacher bangs a book on your desk to wake you up. You keep your head ducked down while your classmates laugh at you. One of your friends shoots you a sympathetic smile from behind his copy of Hamlet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You get your homework back during lunch, along with an </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I owe you one”</span>
  </em>
  <span> from your bestie. You push your maggot-infested school lunch away as you and the three or four other people at your table engage in typical conversation. Though, you have to admit, things got rather heated when asked to choose between a date with Red Robin or Spoiler. You don’t notice Stephanie Brown overhearing and looking offended when you chose Red Robin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Third period after lunch is interrupted by a villain emergency drill. The teachers boredly go over what to do in case of the Riddler, Penguin, etc. Half the kids aren’t paying attention. You find these Gothamite maniacs more of a nuisance than objects of fear—they’re making you miss time in your favorite class to go over procedures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You suppose the drill earlier is a good thing, because an actual villain crashes your fourth period class. The procedure tells you to leave all bags behind and head to the predetermined safe location, but like hell are you leaving your $1,200 laptop and your favorite Harry Potter book. So you take your stuff to the safe place and wait it out. You can hear Batman's gruff interactions with whoever the clown of this week is. But the person you like is visibly shaking from fear. You don’t blame them; they moved here from Coast City under a month ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So you awkwardly scoot across the hard floor and lay a comforting hand over theirs. You can’t speak, for the bad guy might hear and find you. But you swipe the tears away from their cheek with your thumb and look them in the eye. It’s a silent reassurance. They give you a soft smile. And boy, do you get lost in every feature. The way their hair perfectly frames their face, and irises swirling with color and quirks like tiny freckles or scars. For a moment, you forget about the battle raging outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The GCPD gives the all clear for people to come out. One wall off the school is missing, reduced to a pile of brick. Holes poke through the ceiling, letting that East Coast rain pour in. (The school district won’t be happy.) You notice you’re still holding your classmate’s hand. You awkwardly let go and blush nervously. Did the place suddenly get hot? And why are you so sweaty? You’re not even a hundred percent sure if you’re wearing deodorant. What if they find you gross and never want to see you again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But your worries are quelled when they open up an umbrella and offer to share it with you. In the background, your friends give you encouraging smiles all around. You text your mom, telling her that you’re okay. Your dad leaves his job at the Gotham Gazette to pick you up. You and your crush trade numbers before you leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your mom’s working late again on a Wayne Enterprises marketing project, so your dad whips up some chili to eat. When the rain lets up, you take your dog for a walk. Past Crime Alley, take a left at the graveyard, and stop by to say hi to your older brother working part-time at the arcade. It’s routine. Nothing spectacular. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At dinner, your sister talks on and on about her day at Gotham Academy. Her eyes sparkle with pride when she talks about the baking soda volcano she made, but dulls when she talks about this Damian boy who called her a “simpleminded imbecile” for it. You’re rightfully ticked off. No one can harass your sister but you. You actively remind yourself that, no, you can’t throw hands with a ten-year-old. But that spark is back when she talks about this Jon kid a little too much. Again, you can’t throw hands with children.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you brush your teeth that night, your phone goes off. You almost choke on your toothpaste when you check the text. Your crush asks if you wanna go for ice cream sometime this week. You respond with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>“yes”</span>
  </em>
  <span> almost too quickly. Immediately after, you text your friends in a group chat with messages in all caps. The conversation quickly devolves into memes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your brother knocks on the bathroom door and tells you to get out. You quickly finish and let him use it—anyone who smells like nacho cheese needs it more than you do. You alternate between homework and texting until it’s time for bed. You crawl under the covers and turn off the lights, ignoring what sounds like the Red Hood’s gunshots. You fall asleep with a small smile on your face as pleasant dreams dance through your head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vigilantes and villains be damned. You have better things to do with your life.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28430088">[Podfic] An Unremarkable Tuesday</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArcher/pseuds/TheArcher">TheArcher</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
</div></div></div>
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